


Depraved

by DoctorBane



Category: Manhunt (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBane/pseuds/DoctorBane





	Depraved

All is dark in Carcer City. The shadows are my friends. They hide me from the hunters.  
The annoying voice in my ear keeps at me, telling me to kill more people. He won’t be pleased until everyone is dead.  
(“Choke the fucking life outta them, Cash!”)  
I know he intends for me to die too. But if I refuse to play along, I won’t get the chance to escape.  
He wants death? He wants gore? Fine. I’m no angel. I was on death row. Murder. They couldn’t find all the bodies, and I hadn’t kept count after reaching around fifty. But I know it was more than that.   
You see, I was a hitman. Freelance. I would work for whoever had the money. But I had rules. I would only go after other criminals, and I wouldn’t target kids. Sure, I may be a bastard, but a man’s gotta have some scruples, right?  
The reason I was so popular, was that I could make use of anything to kill someone quickly and efficiently. Shopping bags? You bet. Pieces of wire? Sure. A gun? If the situation called for it.  
Unfortunately, the police eventually got on my tail. Had to abandon my family without a word. They didn’t know about my line of work, and I had no interest in the police catching me with them. Ended up on the run for around a decade. It was tiring, constantly staying one step ahead of the cops. Funny though, they never seemed all that bothered with catching other criminals. Just me.  
Anyway, I ended up getting caught in Carcer City, tried, and sentenced to death. I’d never felt so helpless before, being escorted to the death chamber, and being held down as they gave me the lethal injection. I felt myself slipping away, and then it all went black.  
Then I woke up.  
(“You’re getting a second chance, another roll of the dice…”)  
Now I’m taking part in some bastard’s snuff film. I know there’s no way he’ll let me go. But if I can just escape, I’ll be safe.  
(“Just do as I say, and I promise, this will all be over, before the night is out.”)  
The shadows are my friends. The stupid bastards can’t see me in them.  
I continue on. Bones snap. Blood pours. People beg for their lives. (“Just keep adding to the body count. Do your thing!”)   
People spot me. (“You’ve been spotted. Again.”) Outnumbered, I run. Lungs burning.  
Now I’m getting beat up by some punk. I swing my arms wildly, no skill, no substance, just animal-like ferocity. The man falls, pleading for mercy. I keep kicking him, feeling ribs snapping, bones breaking. His begs turn to chokes, and then fall silent. Once, a very long time ago, I might have felt pity. Now, only irritation at my own injuries, and the blood on my clothes.  
(“You’re stacking up those corpses like it was Judgement Day!”)  
I see an alleyway up ahead. Maybe now’s my chance. I run, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. I round a corner, but then a van appears from out of nowhere. Armed guards burst out of the back, and suddenly it’s four on one, and I know I’m screwed.

I wake up just as I’m thrown from the van, thudding headache and pains all over my body. I look up. I’m at the dump.  
I realise it’s not going to be quite as easy to escape as I’d hoped. Looks like I’ll have to play along a little longer.  
It's gonna be a long night.


End file.
